Clock Strikes Twelve
by TheRavingFangirl
Summary: England just can't take it anymore. How far will he go to end the pain?  T for suicidal thoughts and actions.


**A/N: **Augh, it's terrible! DX I came up with this idea in the shower in the early morning, so my brain wasn't very awake. It sounded way better in my head than it does when I actually typed it out...My first UsUk attempt. Whee~

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><p>I stood at the top of the clock tower that held Big Ben. Contrary to popular belief (and inaccurate American "knowledge"), the clock itself was not named Big Ben. Big Ben was the enormous bell that made the familiar sounds of the clock chimes that could be heard all throughout London. On the hour, every hour. The next time I heard this beautiful clock chime would be my last.<br>I had already said goodbye to my city. My extraordinary capital that no other nation in the world could claim. I had abandoned my large house in the center of town, not even bothering to lock the door. Why worry about being robbed when I would no longer be around to care about possessions?  
>Two hundred and fifty years had passed since he had left me. Two hundred and fifty drunken nights, two hundred and fifty denied invitations, two hundred and fifty disappointed expressions, two hundred and fifty attempts at pleading for me to come. I simply couldn't take this rotting, empty, broken feeling anymore. I wanted it to end.<br>I wanted it to end once and for all.  
>So I packed one briefcase full of clothing and left my house for a hotel. I would spend my last days roaming my city, not cooped up like the stuffy old man I truly was. Saying goodbye to the places, never to the people. Had I told my Prime Minister or my beloved King and Queen what I was planning to do, they would have had guards at my front door day and night, keeping track of my every move. I understood that they cared about me. That was more than I could say for him.<br>My thoughts drifted back to that obnoxious, upbeat boy that I had fallen for. The one who had left me in the rain that day, the one who used to be my little brother. If I told you that I had loved him from the start, I'd be lying. At first the love was brotherly. But then when I came back one day and he was taller than me, an adult, and a very handsome one at that, I felt my feelings toward him shift. I still viewed him as my brother, though I began to wonder if there was something more under my feelings. I was thinking about telling him that I didn't want to be brothers anymore, but something different...Until he revolted against my country. It was then I realized that he hated me. From then on, every year on that day, I would become more touchy and irritable than I usually was.  
>I glanced at my watch, unable to see the clock due to the fact that I was in the tower. It was 11:50. I had ten minutes left to live. I stood on the edge of the tower, breathing in the night air of London. I took in the sounds and the sights of the beautiful city, saying one last silent goodbye. Being the personification of a country, throwing myself off of the clock tower was the only thing I could think of that could possibly kill me. I only hoped that the building was high enough, the ground hard enough, and my body human enough.<br>"England!"  
>What was that? A voice? I strained my ears.<br>_"England!"_  
>Yes, that was most certainly a voice. A voice that I knew. A voice that had been the subject of my dreams, good or bad, a voice that tormented me, a voice that belonged to the person I loved and also the person who hated me. I must be hearing things. Yes. That was it. I shook my head to clear it and resumed mentally preparing myself for the jump.<br>"ENGLAND!"  
>It came from behind me this time. I spun around to see America standing before me, breathing heavily, Texas slipping down his sweaty nose. Had he run all the way here?<br>"What do you think you're doing?" America asked.  
>"Shouldn't I be asking <em>you <em>that question?" I replied. What a comeback...  
>"Why are you going to kill yourself, Iggy?" America shouted at me. I gulped. I hadn't told anyone about this. All I had done was leave a note on my coffee table that read: <em>I'm not coming back. If whoever is reading this wants to see me again, meet me at the bottom of the clock tower... <em>Had America gone into my house? That was the only explanation. Why had he been there? It definitely wasn't because he was checking up on me.  
>"That's none of your bloody business," I growled. "And don't call me Iggy!" I turned away from the younger nation, only to be spun around to face him again, him clutching at my shirt. I fought back a blush at our close vicinity.<br>"Like hell it's not!" America snarled. "What are you thinking? You can't just leave everyone like this! You're a nation, for God's sake! You've got your people to think about! Not to mention your friends!"  
>"Friends?" I scoffed. "What friends? It's not like anyone would care if I was dead anyway."<br>"You're really stupid, aren't you, Iggs?" America said.  
>"Wh-what do you mean?" I questioned.<br>The only answer I got was America crashing his lips against mine as the clock struck twelve.  
>"Alfred?" I whispered once we pulled away. He embraced me tightly.<br>"Why were you about to jump?" he asked again, refusing to be unaware of the reason.  
>"I..." I hesitated. Looking back on my reasoning, I realised it was foolish and selfish. What nation in their right mind would even consider an attempt at suicide just because of one other person? We had a heavy responsibility to our country's citizens on our shoulders. It wouldn't have worked anyway. Maybe I'd had one too many drinks that evevning, and it was messing with my common senese...America held me at arm's length, waiting for an answer. Damn those puppy-like eyes of his!<br>"I just felt that I couldn't take it anymore," I finally replied. "I couldn't take the pain of being apart from you. I thought that you left me all those years ago because you hated me, and I thought I just couldn't live with that fact any longer. I...I acted like a real git, didn't I?" America chuckled lightly and hugged me again.  
>"I wanted independence from you so you would see me as an equal instead of your kid brother. I never really wanted to be apart from you, Arthur," he explained. I felt tears form in my eyes as I wrapped my arms around him.<br>"Alfred?"  
>"Yeah, Artie?"<br>"Happy birthday."

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><p><strong>AN: **Simply awful. Review please, if this even deserves it...

**Edit: **Wowwwww, you guys are so awesome. I love you. I LOOOOOOVE YOU! You don't know how grateful I was that people gave CONSTRUCTIVE critism. I was so terrified to read the reviews for this, but I breathed a sigh of reflief. I made edits to this based on some of your suggestions and comments and hope that it's that much better. Once again, thank you thank you thank you thank you! *glomps everyone*


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